Unlikely Alliances
by Skriana the Shadow Dragon
Summary: Jin and Hwoarang meet a strange, sword-wielding girl. She has a strange power . . .the power to control fire . . . Neither fighter knows what will ensue . . . CH 2 IS UP! PLEASE R&R!
1. And so it begins. . .

Jin and Hwoarang meet a strange, sword-wielding girl. She has a strange power . . .the power to control fire . . . Neither fighter knows what will ensue . . .

  
  


DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tekken 3 or any of its characters. The story and Skriana, however belong to ME. If you want to post this fic on a page or anything NON-PROFIT, I ask that you email me (skriana@hotmail.com) first to ask permission. I'll most likely say yes.

  
  


Enjoy!^_^

Unlikely Alliances

Chapter One

And so it begins . . .

The demon's muscled tail smashed violently against her stomach, sending the eighteen-year-old flying into a nearby wall. A groan of pain escaped her lips, as well as a thin trickle of blood. She struggled to stand, but ended up leaning her back heavily against the stone wall. Skriana looked up, her auburn eyes still burning with defiance and anger.

Yet, a trace of fear crept into her eyes, coming unbidden. Ogre roared triumphantly and moved in for the kill. With all her wounds, surely she could not resist, the hellish being thought. What it didn't know, however, was that Skriana was focusing her energies for a final, desperate assault that would hopefully prove fatal to the demon.

  
  


Suddenly, sharp pain found its way in Ogre's back. Turning, the hellish creature found Jin, standing, ready to fight. "Fool," it hissed. The demon slashed with taloned forepaws, but to no avail. The stern young man either dodged or skilfully blocked every one of the nightmarish beast's attacks. But the experienced fighter was having no luck, either. Even the great Demon Paw was of no use. Both opponents never seemed to tire, however. When things seemed dire for the proud Kazama, help arrived in the most unlikely form: that of a red-haired, feisty youth. Hwoarang, Jin's most hated rival, had come to lend him a hand. They formed a formidable team, to their greatest surprise. Hwoarang's swift kicks supported harmoniously Jin's powerful strikes.

  
  


"This good enough for ya, Kazama?"

  
  


"Yeah, sure. My technique, however-"

  
  


"Just focus on the fight!" Hwoarang, irritated, exclaimed.

  
  


"Whatever," Jin replied, yet did as he was told.

  
  


Shrieking of rage and frustration at its own inability, Ogre changed tactics. The demon decided to defend against attacks and wait for an opening. It never truly came, however, as whenever one of the allies attacked and left an opening, the other was right behind him, ready to hold Ogre's attacks at bay.

  
  


As the minutes ticked by, neither side seemed to be winning, although the large demon showed signs of weakness every now and then. After a while, even Jin and Hwoarang began to show signs of fatigue. Even so, all three fighters refused to give in. Finally, one of Jin's Demon Paws found its way through Ogre's defences. The hellish creature howled its pain and anger. It was at this precise moment that Skriana decided to strike. Drawing her katana, she charged towards Ogre. The demon tried time and again to claw at her, but Skriana would not allow it. She slashed continuously, the blade flashing and dancing in the air.

  
  


Suddenly, Skriana leapt in the air, muttering a few strange words. As he and Hwoarang stood transfixed, Jin thought he heard Japanese, but he couldn't be sure. The eighteen-year-old's blade was now surrounded in blood red flames. She brought it down hard, intending to cleave Ogre in half. The foul being's skull split in two, while its body was consumed by a raging fire. Soon nothing but ashes were left, and the flames around the adolescent's katana died down. Skriana leaned heavily on her sword, her breathing hard, laboured. Just as Hwoarang was about to ask about her unique skill, her grip on the sword went completely limp, the katana clattering noisily on the stone floor. She followed soon after, sinking to her knees before falling face-first to the floor.

  
  


"Geez, a single rush did that?"

  
  


"No, take a look at these wounds. She knew it was over way before this," Jin corrected as he bent down to flip her on her back and check her breathing.

  
  


"Must be a strong fighter then." Hwoarang's expression turned from admiring to wide-eyed surprise as he noted Jin's reaction to his findings.

  
  


"She's breathing. By the gods, she's breathing!" A startled Jin barely voiced.

  
  


"What!? Man, that's just not normal!" Hwoarang exclaimed.

  
  


"Never mind that, we have greater concerns. Per example, what to do now?"

  
  


" . . .Good question. I've never thought of that one. . . .Maybe at the temple. It should be safe there," Hwoarang suggested.

  
  


"Better get moving now, then. But we'd be better off not attracting too much attention. We both know what that would lead to."

  
  


"Good point."

  
  


They set off on that note, the darkness shrouding their departure.


	2. . . .unfolding gently. . .

Jin and Hwoarang decide to help the injured Skriana. What awaits them...? 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Tekken or any of its characters. Skriana is my character. Plotline of this fic is mine. Lawyers will be powerless, since suing me won't get you much. Seriously.

  
  


On a more bright note, enjoy! ^_^ 

  
  


Chapter Two

. . .unfolding gently . . .

  
  


With Hwoarang carrying the wounded Skriana, Jin knew he could safely concentrate on making sense out of the recent, startling events. The 18-year-old obviously knew fire enchantments, but who knew how far those powers extended, and let's not even begin on how much was known about their origin! Jin tried, without much success, to answer the latter. Just as he neared a possible answer, though, Hwoarang interrupted his reverie.

  
  


"Hey, I just thought of something. What about bandages? We can't leave those wounds like this, especially not that back wound . . .It's pretty nasty."

  
  


". . .We should find a stream first. A clear one, mind you. Sure, we can't leave those wounds like that, but they must be cleaned first."

  
  


"I should've thought of that," Hwoarang muttered.

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"Nothing."

  
  


They walked in silence afterwards, each lost in his own thoughts. After a few moments, though, Hwoarang halted, listening alertly.

  
  


"What now?" Jin asked, at first not hearing what the red-haired Korean heard.

  
  


"Stream. Dead ahead."

  
  


He stepped hurriedly toward the familiar sound, Jin close behind. What they saw, a clear stream, was immensely pleasing. Relief shone on both their faces, for they knew both their luck and how important this was to Skriana's survival. The only thing left now was to decide on the proceedings. Hwoarang finally volunteered, seeing as Jin was a bit shy about it . . . The flame-haired Korean undressed the unconscious brown-haired fighter's upper body, carefully exposing the worst wounds. He sat her limp form up, holding her gently yet firmly. He winced at his discovery. Even though the moon shone ever so softly, Hwoarang could see plainly that the gash in her back was by far the worst one of all. It stretched from her left shoulder plate almost to the opposite thigh. The nineteen-year-old street fighter reached into his jeans' back pocket and took a red handkerchief which he mainly used when cleaning his motorbike. His hand carried it into the cool water flowing from the stream, soaking it. He pressed it against the terrible wounds, starting with the back. His touch was gentle, but firm enough to effectively clean the cuts and gashes strewn almost carelessly about the eighteen-year-old's body. Soon, every gash was clean, blood being the only blemish in the portrait.

  
  


"Don't you have a white shirt, Kazama?"

  
  


"What!?" the surprised Japanese answered.

  
  


"Y'know, that white shirt of yours. We don't have anything else that would be suitable, it seems," Hwoarang informed Jin.

  
  


Wordlessly, the martial artist swiftly undid the buttons binding his shirt closed. He then eased the snow-white garment off his muscled frame, handing it to Hwoarang. A slightly mocking smirk replaced the calm expression on the latter's features.

  
  


"Oh, I think the girls'll definitely go for that look," he teased.

  
  


Jin's features flushed in embarrassment.

  
  


"What? Is it something I said?" The Tae-Kwon-Do practitioner's innocent question only deepened the Mishima heir's flush. The Korean simply shook his head, that teasing smirk still very much visible on his face. "Never mind. You wouldn't mind holding her up for a while, would you?"

  
  


His face slowly taking on a normal hue, Jin simply nodded, while Hwoarang began tearing the shirt to form crude bandages. When he was done, he motioned to the Mishima style karate practitioner for some help dressing the wounds. They then decided to find an area to spend the rest of the night, beginning to feel too tired to do anything else. Hwoarang still was the one to carry the mysterious fighter's slim form. He was beginning to feel a bit more than mere compassion for her. More like admiration, he told himself. It was just then that a detail about Skriana struck him; she wore a silver dragon charm around her neck. He brought this to Jin's attention, albeit a bit reluctantly, since he would normally have preferred dealing with it himself. Yet, he had spent too much time thinking about this, and it was beginning to get on his nerves. The brown-eyed man simply shrugged and suggested to ask her about the charm when she would have enough strength to answer. Hwoarang's logic told him this was a good idea, but he couldn't help but think of that charm, and why she had it, not to mention its purpose. Finally, the two martial artists found a good spot to spend the rest of the night. They agreed they should set up a watch, so as to not be surprised by some wild animal. Jin, having the least fatigue, offered to take first watch, letting Hwoarang get some rest first.

  
  


No incidents were truly of danger, fact for which Jin was relieved. In truth, apart from a fleeting glimpse of a hunting jaguar and the nightbirds singing, nothing happened at all. The black-haired martial artist woke Hwoarang and warned him of that particular feline. Nodding, the Korean eased himself to a seated position and from there rose to his full height, stretching to dissipate the last remnants of stiffness in his muscles. He swiftly noticed a large, flat rock and sat there, his sharp eyes darting alertly from shadow to shadow. From time to time, movement would catch the corner of his eye, but every time he looked it was only the Mishima heir shifting in his sleep.

  
  


Not even half an hour passed before Hwoarang's ear caught an anguished groan. Nearly jumping at the sudden sound, he realized it was the young swordfighter, who had awakened and discovered the pain in her wounds. Worried she might wake Jin, the fiery-haired Korean was swiftly at her side, stroking her silken hair soothingly. She calmed easily, for such was her nature, and returned to blissful sleep, the lines of pain smoothed from her features.

*********

  
  


Well, another chapter's finished. Whaddaya think? PLEASE R&R. It's always nice to know how much people appreciate your writing. If you liked it, great. If you didn't, fine, but either way, tell me what you liked and what you didn't. Again, if you wanna email me about posting the fic on your page, it's skriana@hotmail.com. Just to let you know, it's going to be at least 20 chapters long. Yep, I really do like writing long fics.


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